


The Goose

by Larathia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 12:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: I came across astory on tumblr, and realized that it was exactly the sort of thing that would happen to Keith. And that it was also exactly the sort of thing that other people would get utterly the wrong impression from. So I wrote it up as a little sheith ficlet, the sort of story that might get told around the Garrison but one Keith himself would never repeat.  (And yes, canada geese have been considered an engangered/protected species, although I don't think they are currently.)





	The Goose

Keith attacked the saucepan with angry fervor, the steel wool wielded ruthlessly against the burned-on sauce.

_Two weeks_. Two _weeks_ of KP. No combat training, no free time for flight-sim practice. Two weeks of scouring burned food out of the Garrison’s cookware in the noisy, hot kitchens.

He didn’t dare meet anyone’s eyes. The mood he was in, one smirk at the wrong moment and it’d be three weeks, then four weeks, and then ‘may as well give up on graduating and set up a tent by the refrigeration units’. So he ignored the laughter in the background, paid no attention to any words said in his vicinity, and scoured burned tomato sauce out of the pot in his hands.

As a kitchen duty survival strategy, it wasn’t awful, but he did nearly brain Shiro with the saucepan when Shiro gently touched his shoulder to get his attention.

“Whoa, whoa!” said Shiro, backing up a bit. “I heard you got KP. What _happened_?”

Keith sourly turned away and got back to his scrubbing. “You didn’t hear? Everyone’s been talking about it, apparently. Nobody’s _shut up_ about it since last night.”

Shiro leaned up against a wall at the edge of the sink – within Keith’s peripheral vision, but not in his way. “I heard you got KP,” he repeated gently. “Everything else I figured I should probably hear from you.”

Pot gleaming, Keith angrily shoved it onto the drying rack and grabbed another. (Who the hell taught these people how to cook, anyway? _No one_ should be able to burn pasta sauce this badly. Did they take _naps_ when they were supposed to be minding the pots?) “Did you hear I kicked an endangered goose? Because I kicked an endangered goose.”

To his great credit, Shiro neither smiled nor looked particularly shocked or scandalized. “So the rumor mill says,” he agreed politely. “I didn’t hear anything about you killing one, mind.”

“Oh the fucking _goose_ is _fine_ ,” growled Keith, taking out his frustrations firmly on the pan in hand.

Shiro nodded slowly, arms folded across his chest in a manner that suggested he was holding himself back from the sort of companionable touches that Keith usually appreciated but right here and now might end in broken fingers. “I’d still like to know what happened,” he offered.

“I fucking kicked a fucking endangered goose, Shiro,” Keith snarled, without looking up. “Someone caught it on their phone camera and stuck it on the Garrison message boards and Iverson saw it this morning and I’ve got two weeks’ KP. What’s to fucking _tell_?”

Shiro _did_ touch Keith then, light fingers tugging sweat-damp hair out of Keith’s face and off his neck. “Why,” he said. “Because I’m sorry, but I don’t actually believe you have a particular hatred for endangered birds.”

Keith couldn’t stay mad. Not when Shiro spoke that way, stood by him that way. No one else had, that was for sure. “...I finished the research for that paper on metal fatigue,” he said, much more quietly now. Hands scrubbed rhythmically, but not roughly. “I was going to drop my books off in my quarters and meet you for practice and ...I think it was a freshman. Or a girl. Or both. It was kind of dark, but they were being attacked by this damn _goose_. I don’t know why, but they were really scared. Books dropped, papers blowing in the wind, the whole thing, and there wasn’t any cover. I didn’t think about it, I just got the goose’s attention. I was going to drive it off, you know, maybe help the kid get their papers in order, but it charged _me_ instead. And...I kicked it. Those things are pretty big when they’re coming right at you and I didn’t even think about it. I think I kicked it pretty far.” He frowned at the pot in his hands. “It made a sort of squeaky noise when I connected...flew up on top of the gym and it was just glaring at me. I think the kid it was attacking just grabbed their stuff and ran for it while I was busy with it. I didn’t think anyone else saw. When I was sure it was going to stay up there I just went back to my quarters.”

Shiro nodded, slowly. “The video just shows you yelling at the goose and then kicking it,” he said. “Impressive distance, really.”

“Of course it does,” growled Keith, anger returning. “Why wouldn’t it. And now it’s two weeks before we can practice together.”

Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “And it was good of you to protect that underclassman. It was probably just one of the other flight training cadets, trying to knock you out of the top spot. Two weeks without extra practice time, and all.”

Keith didn’t answer. He just focused on scrubbing the pot. He loved the flight training, that was no secret, but he’d miss the combat practices with Shiro more. No free time, no extracurricular training.

“When do you get free?” asked Shiro.

“When everything’s scrubbed after evening mess,” said Keith. “Call it 2100.”

Shiro nodded. “You’re not going to want to eat mess hall food after scrubbing up in here,” he said. “I’ll meet you at your quarters with takeout at 2130.”

Keith looked up, then. Shiro smiled at him. The gesture was kind, but it was the faith that mattered more. Shiro hadn’t for one minute thought he was a hotheaded screwup. And still didn’t even with the whole story. “...Thanks,” was all he could say to that.

Shiro squeezed Keith’s shoulder and smiled. “The least I can do,” he said. “We’ll practice together again when you’re done here. Don’t worry.”


End file.
